


(I'm Not Sorry) I Met You

by afrocurl



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Meetings, M/M, Other, Royalty, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 20:51:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is standing over the bodies of his latest victims when he suddenly finds himself transported to what should be his utopia: a place full of people with abilities like his, who might never have done an honest day's work in their lives but can live and love freely and openly.</p><p>And then things get even more complicated and confusing when he finds himself in the presence of that strange utopia's prince.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I'm Not Sorry) I Met You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hanh410](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanh410/gifts).



> There are additional tags that give away some of the plot so I'll include a note at the end for those who want to know before reading.

He had never been one to admire the myriad tableaux he created after each kill, but there was something in this bar in Argentina that called to him; something that spoke of a larger and loftier goal. Both of the known SS officers were now about to finish bleeding out on the floor, and so was the bartender. That latter death Erik was willing to admit _might_ not have been necessary, only reactionary and situational. But then he looked over at the photograph of the three men with Herr Doktor Klaus Schmidt, framed proudly on the wall, and the decision seemed like the only one, the right one.

The photograph told Erik everything he needed to know - that the three men were connected to Schmidt - that they needed to die for their association and their crimes. They needed to pay for what they had done to Erik and every other person in the camps - be those victims Jewish, Romani, gay, Communists, or dissenters - no matter how these men were involved, directly or indirectly. It didn't matter what any of the SS officers had done or had not done: they were still culpable and complicit. Just as Schmidt needed to die for the same reasons - and more. Erik needed Schmidt to die for the death of his mother, for the myriad “sessions” to test Erik’s powers, for torturing Erik in a sick quest for domination. G-d was clearly a vengeful being and clearly Erik following suit would not harm him later in life. That thought was not worth exploring, Erik realized, as he went back to staring at the scene in front of him, the blood still seeping from each of their wounds. There was that photograph on the wall: a key to something Erik had never thought possible. 

As if to understand something else in their twisted minds, Erik reached to ghost his fingers against the photograph, trying to glean information by osmosis. Hoping that, in the looks on their faces, he could understand why - to understand something in their motives and rationales for their time in the SS. No one had remained alive long enough for Erik to get that answer, not that he thought he had needed it until now. They clearly hadn’t wanted to say more on the subject until Erik had pressed, so perhaps this was the only chance at a new lead.

The answer was secondary, Erik realized, because what he actually needed was for the men who had ruined his life to suffer just as he had, if not in more gruesome ways, simply for retribution's sake; understanding why they had agreed to the work provided no answers that Erik sought. He schooled his thoughts away - thinking of them only led him to a dangerous place where more would be killed besides these three men. Not that their lives mattered that much, especially not compared to those that they helped to kill. It went back to G-d’s will, or motives, and that was dangerous as anything; thinking of his goal as like those that he had heard in this youth didn’t imply an end date. This could be infinite; scores of men still alive who had tortured and killed millions.

Instead, he drew his mind back to the photograph and the proof that justified his work today. Living in this moment was easier than imagining the next series of leads and where they would lead. This moment meant that his fingers started to press against the glass, but instead of feeling cool against his fingers, the world changed, the heat from the bar leaking into something unfamiliar.

What he saw when he opened his eyes, Erik’s mind couldn’t believe.

-

There were four people - two men and two women - curled around each other as if they were... Erik stopped that thought in mid-stream, unable to process it as he was probably meant to. He had little need to remember anything carnal, let alone understand how things were possible with more than two people. There was no need for lust, or want, when there was a job to be done. It was the job above all else, and it had been for as long as he could remember, despite the occasional and insistent pull of biology leading him into alleys or a hotel bathroom for a quick release.

Clearly the people in this room were not of Erik’s mindset. They were wrapped around each other as if love and happiness were all they knew. There were no signs of work around them; the room filled with what looked like the wardrobes of eight not four and enough books to make a small library, but no hints at a plan being orchestrated or a mission to complete.

Erik tried to ignore the people, taking in the rest of his surroundings. The people were all nestled under a large bed covered in sheets, blankets and covers of varying shades of blue. Large windows allowed all of the morning’s light into the room where there were also so many stacks of books in piles that lacked any organization and clothes set haphazardly as if the foursome lacked the time or inclination to make a clean house. He wondered how four people could live in such squalor, but said nothing aloud because he didn’t wish to wake up the quartet.

No signs of electricity anywhere: burned-out candles stood next to many of the piled books, and there was no toilet to be seen. There were drapes that looked as if they weighed more than Erik did and the little of the exposed windows he saw were heavy leaded panes placed between metal, not the thinner stuff of his numerous hotel rooms. The metal around them hummed at an odd pitch to Erik’s senses; something he’d never felt before.

The entire room confused Erik, though given that he assumed that the photograph had transported him somewhere, everything was meant to confuse him. It was impossible for a photograph to transport him to another place and time, surely. Even if everything he saw told him that that was what had happened, it didn’t mean that Erik had to believe it. 

He tried to move away from the overly large bed, but just as he moved back, he knocked over a pile of books and one of the two men - the one who looked as though he might be part of Schmidt's team, with his pale skin and brown hair - opened his eyes and looked at Erik.

Instead of demanding answers, the man scrubbed the sleep from his eyes, made a long arm over the red-skinned man still sleeping next to him, and grabbed a pair of glasses from the table. The frames seemed too wide and prominent for a slight man like him, but Erik said nothing.

Instead, he tried to hide, and knocked over another collection of books, this time to his right instead of behind him. The crash sounded far too loud in Erik’s ears, and he tried to right the books into some order.

“Please, stop,” the man said, “it’ll only make my work worse later. But you won’t be here much longer, I promise.” The man looked away from Erik, as if he was drawn to another conversation before he continued, “His Majesty would like to see you as soon as we are all ready. It shouldn’t take,” he looked around the bed, “more than another hour at most. Raven sleeps in when she can.”

The last statement sounded as if it was meant to be a non sequitur, but it made no sense to Erik right now. “Sorry,” the man said again, “once everyone’s awake and we get to the Palace, all will be explained.”

Erik nodded, because it seemed the only thing to do, and waited for the other inhabitants of the bed to start to awaken. The red man was second to awaken, and his hands found time to squeeze the first man’s arm and then turned the man with the glasses around and into a searing kiss. True to the man’s word, the blue woman - what was that about? - was the last to wake, just moments after the other woman had woken. The two women were content to share kisses after they woke, in what looked like something out of the dark corners of many a bar Erik had been through before.

“Everyone,” the man said, “this is Erik. Erik, these are my wives, Irene and Raven,” pointing to the brunette and then the redhead with the blue skin, “and my husband Azazel. I’m Hank. We’re part of His Majesty’s Privy Council. He wishes to speak with you.”

Erik was about to say that the man had never asked his name, but thought it better to not be as rude as he already was. No one had seemed to mind that Erik was in the middle of their bedroom, clearly an uninvited guest.

“Worry not about the interruption,” Irene said. “I knew it would happen, and had a few of Hank’s piles moved to make sure you didn’t knock them all over.”

Hank looked put out, but said nothing else. As if to prove his displeasure, he pinched Irene’s side and pulled her into a kiss, equally as passionate as the one Hank had shared with Azazel and the ones Irene and Raven shared.

“We, as you can tell,” Azazel said, “are like you. We all possess special gifts.” As if to prove his point, a red tail with a spiked end crept out from the covers. “So, we shall make ready for the day and see you to the Prince.” Azazel all but leapt out of bed as he finished and started to rifle through some of the strewn clothes.

Hank lingered, kissing both Irene and Raven as if this was a sign of their greeting the day. Erik knew he should look away, but it was impossible to avoid looking at the tempered passion of the three of them; there was an easy familiarity to their moments, hands cradling breasts, waists, necks. The three of them were clearly content to let the moment stretch, and it was only when Azazel looked up from the floor that he said, “Stop that. We have a meeting, and I won’t be left out of the fun.”

“Should I not have watched?” Erik asked to the group still on the bed, just as Irene leaned over Hank to give Raven a kiss that carried far more heat than Hank had shown to either woman; it reminded Erik of the earlier kisses as if he was truly part of something he shouldn’t have been.

Irene’s short crop of black hair shifted first and she rose into a seated position again. “Not unless you were uncomfortable. I have seen that you are, later. He will be most pleased with you, in spite of that,” she said in Erik’s direction. “There are many futures here, but they all involve you, no matter how long you stay.”

Erik blushed under the compliment, and turned away, as if to let the four of them start and finish their ablutions and begin the day. He felt the blush last longer than he thought possible, as if he were not simply responding to the comment but to the scene he had witnessed.

-

The walk from the home he landed in towards the palace was short, but pleasant. However, as he looked around the scores of other people, Erik felt like a fish out of water - his dress too different from what he saw. Instead of his polo shirt and linen suit, there were fine brocades mixed with what might have been burlap or poorly spun cotton. 

“Is there always such a difference in people?” he asked his companions as they walked. 

“Well, it is not as if those in finer clothes are richer than those in the simpler ones; we each have a purpose and to match that purpose, we dress accordingly. His Majesty insures that there are no economic differences between everyone here in Genosha,” Hank said, as if it was of no consequence that there were no real class differences.

“Is that what everyone here thinks?” Erik pressed, curiosity winning out over politeness because he had never heard of such a state existing and surviving for extended periods of time.

Azazel, Irene and Raven nodded. “Charles would not allow it any other way. We know that he means well and do not question what he says,” Irene noted. “I have also seen no future where we do not trust his words or his decisions.”

“Is that your gift? Precognition?” Erik asked, though he had never thought of his affinity for metal as a gift, but rather a twisted curse. Schmidt had never called it a gift without a sneer after, but so far his companions had seemed so at ease with their gifts that they must be thought of as beneficial here.

“Yes, and as if Raven’s skin weren’t gorgeous enough, she is a shapeshifter.” As if to prove the point, Raven’s body morphed into an exact mirror of Erik. “What you didn’t see earlier with Hank is that he is stronger than most and has feet like that of an orangutan. Azazel also teleports,” she finished. “It is important that you know us, and that you trust us. We mean you no harm. Nor does His Majesty, no matter how he acts.”

She reached over to clasp Hank’s and Raven’s hands, and Raven took one of Azazel's as Azazel offered Erik the other. “Shall we show you?” Irene asked before the space around them changed from the very busy street into the fine chambers of His Majesty. All around him, Erik saw bookshelves almost overflowing with books and sheaves of parchment stuck between the heavy tomes. The furniture was all fine wood, covered in more elaborate brocades and silks than Erik had seen in the room of Azazel, Hank, Irene and Raven. 

Erik gasped at the sight. 

“Good,” was all Irene said before she and her lovers separated from each other. Erik’s hand gripped Azazel’s more tightly as he tried to process everything. 

“You must let go, Erik. We cannot stay for this meeting,” Azazel added before he left in a cloud of red smoke, the smell catching Erik’s nose briefly before it dissipated into nothing.

Turning around, Erik realized that he was utterly alone in the room now, though he had no idea when Hank, Irene and Raven had left the room. There were no signs that he had arrived with four people, least of all four people who were amorous with each other than anyone else Erik had seen before. Erik wasn’t sure of the mechanics, even as he thought back to earlier when Hank had kissed his wives and then let them kiss each other.

He felt the blush from earlier return, unsure of why his body chose now to think of them in that manner. He was in a room that looked like some ancient castle, he should not be thinking of what the people who found him chose to do with their free time.

“But thinking of them is so much more entertaining,” a voice said, as if it had come from the thin air. Erik spun, but saw no one. The voice echoed off the wooden shelves and then died as soon as Erik realized no one was there. The voice, though, didn’t sound as if it came from a person, more like the voice materialized in his head and lingered.

“Who are you?” Erik demanded, and then regretting his harsh tone after. He looked down to avoid the voice’s scorn, though he still wasn’t sure that the voice had been said aloud at all. Without anyone else in the room, how could a voice have travelled so far and said something so closely tied to Erik’s own thoughts?

“Now, nothing like that. Look up, Erik,” the voice said, and as Erik did, he saw a man wearing a fine silken shirt and cropped short trousers in much the same material - the trousers were capped to just under his knees - with hose and a blue velvet cape. He also had floppy brown hair, eyes the color of the sky and lips that looked painted on - the red so vivid it looked fake. The man was, Erik wasn’t sure there were words to describe him. “Thank you, and now let me introduce myself. I am Charles Francis Xavier, His Majesty Prince of Genosha, and omega-level telepath.”

“You’re a what?” Erik asked, tempering his voice this time, though it was difficult after such an introduction.

“A telepath. I can read minds and speak to your mind. That’s what I did earlier.”

“Stop doing that.”

“You’ve been thinking rather loudly, Erik. It was impossible to not hear your thoughts. But I promise I will never peer into your mind without permission.” Erik noticed that Charles - more accurately the Prince’s tone - had softened and sounded just a bit sad. Erik pushed away the idea of making the Prince sad and steeled his emotions, and hopefully his thoughts.

“Never!” Erik shouted, his mind furious at the idea of someone taking his personal thoughts. “You’ll never have permission. I am an individual. I am my own man. I’ve been held under men who took away my free will and I won’t have that happen again.”

“You are,” the Prince said, “but you have already been shaped by others before. I promise to do nothing they have done to you.”

Erik wanted to scoff. People in power would always be like Schmidt in the end. Erik hadn’t had to show off his power to know that the Prince would use him - and his abilities - for some nefarious use. Schmidt had had orders from someone - Hitler perhaps - but orders were still orders.

Instead of responding, Erik simply left the room, leaving without giving the Prince another moment of his time.

-

Azazel, Hank, Irene and Raven were nowhere to be seen as Erik left the Prince’s room and stormed out. The hallway was empty and Erik simply decided to walk away from the Prince and his damnable ideas, however noble they sounded. He had no idea where he was going, but that was not the point; the point was to avoid the Prince at all costs and hope that there was some way to transport him back to his own time. 

It was obvious, as he had looked in the previous room, that he was not in his time. There was very little metal around the room that Erik felt, save for a few candelabra. He hadn’t seen any rooms that looked like toilets or water closets, so there must have been something else afoot.

Not that he would go back and ask His Majesty. He continued to walk down the hall before a man of similar build stopped him. “Excuse me,” the man said. “Prince Charles has asked me to lead you to a suite. You’ll be staying here rather than interrupting the Darkholme household again.”

Erik laughed, louder than was necessary, because he could. Of course the Prince would forget everything that Erik had said before leaving and invite him into the Palace. “Lead the way then. I wouldn’t want to do anything to upset His Majesty.”

-

The rooms - for there were at least five - were far too much for Erik to take in properly. His ire simmered still, despite the man saying nothing as they walked from the long corridor to another wing of the house. 

“This suite is next to His Majesty’s,” the man said. “There’s a door that connects your main room to his.”

Erik didn’t want to think through being so close to the Prince, and so he said nothing. “Thank you--” 

“Remy, sir. Remy Lebeau. I’m to be your valet until His Majesty finds someone else in the staff to help you.”

“Who do you normally serve?” Erik asked, even though he didn’t care.

“His Majesty.”

Erik shut up at that and started to look around the main room. There were two sets of couches and chairs arranged for private conversations, as well as a small collection of books on a small bookshelf. It looked just as fine as the room Erik had been led to earlier, but still lacked the signs that someone lived here.

Moving through the main room, he found a smaller room off to right that housed a large desk, as if this room had been meant for someone else. The bedroom, when he walked there - off to the left of the main room - was decorated in rich reds and deep purples.

After finding the rooms acceptable - if far too lavish - Erik walked back into the main room to see Remy standing, waiting for orders.

“Were these rooms previously occupied?” Erik asked.

“His Majesty’s consort, Magnus, lived here.”

“And where is this Magnus now?”

“He left, sir.” The words were cool and detached, as if the words had been over-rehearsed. 

Erik said nothing, but sat down against one of the couches and twirled a small piece of money, previously sat on the table, between his fingers.

-

He sat idly for a few hours before growing restless with nothing to do save stare at the room’s furnishings. Just after a mission, Erik always wandered around in the city, taking in a few sights before moving on - the next lead and the next kill never far off. He had no such luck in studying the rooms more than once.

Remy kept to himself by the door, leaving Erik to his own devices, however futile the pacing seemed to be so far. The other man in the room remained silent, though Erik was sure Remy’s eyes were following him at every turn.

“Will you stop that?” Erik finally asked, after what felt like another five hours of being stared at.

“His Majesty never complained, but it is my responsibility to see to your needs.”

“Well, then leave me. I’ll let someone else know when I need you. I don’t enjoy being watched.”

The door opened and closed quickly and after Remy left Erik felt as if he had returned to his normal routine, if only he could see the rest of Genosha.

There was always time for that the next day.

-

Another servant knocked to ask about Erik’s plans for dinner. He had given the meal no thought, and said so, content to skip one meal to avoid looking into the Prince’s stare as the royal tried to make pleasant small talk. Erik never did well with those sorts of settings.

Instead of suffering, he simply asked for a small plate to arrive later and he might eat some of that as he felt inspired.

The servant left, but Erik felt a restless energy in his body that hadn’t been there since Remy had left. It was as if having another person in this space had raised his hackles. He had forgotten what he felt like to feel as if the world wasn’t under his control - as if the world were spinning circles around him - and he found that the only solution was to sit and toy with the lone Marck that Schmidt had made him try to lift years before.

He couldn’t think of a way to tell that servant to have whoever dropped off his food to not enter the rooms, and just when Erik thought that he should ring a damned bell, there was a loud knock, echoing.

“Come in,” he said, because he wasn’t sure who had any reason being near him. The Prince stepped into the room with an overly large tray of food - more than enough for Erik, but probably just enough for two - and placed the tray on the low table near the couches.

“I thought we might try again,” was all the Prince said before he took off plates from the tray and started to tuck into his own meal.

Erik sat gobsmacked, but eventually started to look at the plate of hard cheeses and fruit. He said nothing as he picked at the plate, and neither did his uninvited guest. Unlike with Remy, though, the Prince’s presence didn’t set his teeth on edge. If anything, he felt calmer and more relaxed than he had in ages. There was something calming about the Prince in this room, though Erik supposed that if Magnus had left recently there might be something left of that man in the air around them. It was something to investigate later, Erik thought before he took another bite of blue cheese on a cracker. The piece and cracker crumbled easily, but Erik paid the mess no heed.

Time passed and the Prince said nothing; when it seemed as if the Prince had had his fill of dinner, he did linger to rest a hand on Erik’s left forearm right over where his tattoo was. Erik’s mind went back to Magnus, but he said nothing. It would be far too rude to ask such a personal question, especially given how curt he had been earlier.

Erik wanted to flinch away, but found it impossible, the Prince’s hand resting warmly against the skin that had seen better days, scars still crisscrossing the now-fading numbers as though to point up the past, the anguish and the pain. His mind tried to reason through his pleasant mood and his body’s inability to avoid contact, but at each turn of his mind, Erik found himself lacking; instead his mind focused on Magnus and and what he and the Prince must have been like together.

The Prince’s hand rested simply for a few minutes before he finally said, “I have enjoyed this meal more than any other in a long while. Will you allow me to join you for breakfast tomorrow?”

Erik had no answer, though it didn’t seem as if the Prince minded when he picked up all the used plates and left without another word.

-

Sleep was elusive that night. Erik wasn’t sure if it was his mind racing through his arrival in this strange land or if it was the mysterious Magnus who had lived in these rooms, or even still if it had been the Prince’s easy touch at the end of their meal. No matter which one, something had caught his mind’s eye and it wouldn’t shake loose.

Erik paced around the room in a futile attempt to wear himself down, hoping that sleep would come with an exhausted body. The pacing, though, did little to stop Erik’s mind from looking for answers.

Instead, he fell into bed hours later, restless in what little sleep came to him. 

When Remy walked into the room as dawn had slowly crept through the windows, Erik wanted nothing more than to tell the servant to inform the Prince that he was unfit to be seen, even if he had been taciturn and prickly the day before.

In truth, Erik felt awful, his body and mind confused and unused to this sort of potential energy coursing through him. He said nothing, though, as Remy tended to his person - getting water ready for a bath (why such a luxury for a nobody Erik thought) and then helping Erik dress in something that looked as though Erik belonged here; gone was his suit and polo shirt and in its place, he was given some clothes that he hadn’t investigated yet.

“Who were these clothes for before me?” he asked, because it was impressive that the cut and fit of everything seemed to have been tailored specifically for him, though he had never been fitted for anything.

“There were from Magnus’ personal collection. His Majesty thought you and his consort would be of similar size,” was Remy’s reply as he started to tuck the shirt into the waist of Erik’s new grey trousers. The outfit looked different from what Charles had worn the day before - long trousers that looked as if they were designed for hard battle and a shirt that looked like any button-down shirt Erik would wear. There was a matching jacket, but when Remy put it on, it created the look of a man who commanded attention in his defiance of custom. It had all the appearance of modern straight jackets, though it didn’t have arms that wrapped around the subject.

“And why isn’t Magnus still around?”

“It is not my place to say,” Remy replied, and Erik took the curt answer as a dismissal.

Perhaps after breakfast Erik could wander the halls and see if someone else might give him an answer or two.

-

Breakfast was awkward, Erik’s mind half focused on the mysterious Magnus and half focused on avoiding the Prince’s intense gaze. The Prince had made a point of bringing their meal again, only this time it was filled with cold meats and eggs with toast rather than a large fowl and vegetables with assorted other savories and sweets.

It all seemed far too easy and familiar to share another meal with the Prince. 

“Is something the matter?” the Prince asked when he was nearly done with his meal.

Erik merely nodded but said nothing. He didn’t think he could explain all that was confusing him about this country - not just the time, but the people and their easy acceptance - but it found that trying to say that to a man (and a country) who were so foreign from his own understanding was rude and impolite.

“If you’re done, I shall leave you to your day. Ask Remy or anyone else if you’d like to explore. I have a meeting with my Privy Council in a few minutes.” The Prince rose from his seat and stood straight, adjusting the velvet of his jacket and brushing off crumbs from his capped trousers.

“Tell the Darkholmes I wish them well,” Erik said and waited for the Prince’s form to retreat towards the door. Instead though, the Prince moved into Erik’s space and pressed a kiss to the corner of Erik’s mouth. 

It was quick, but as the Prince pulled back, Erik saw his eyes were wide and his smile fond. Erik had no idea what to make of it, but tried to give a small smile in return for such a gesture. It was the thing to do, he knew, though he had had little use for such conventions before.

“I will and have a good day Erik,” the Prince said as he turned around and walked out. Erik said nothing else, but sat in front of the trays and tried to process what had happened. It would make sense for the Prince to show affection to Magnus, but that man wasn’t here and hadn’t been here for some time.

Was the Prince looking to replace his consort so quickly? Why? Shouldn’t he pine away for his real love? Or was there something in Erik that reminded the Prince of Magnus, besides their shared looks?

That idea was worth exploring with the hours of his day.

-

Idle time made Erik nervous, so after what felt like ages, but was probably closer to an hour, he rose from the couches where he and the Prince - Charles - had eaten and walked towards the large doors. One opened easily enough and standing just to the right of the door was Remy. 

“Is there something you need sir?” the valet asked.

“I’d like to explore the castle, if possible, and maybe a few places outside the castle. Can someone help with that?”

Remy simply nodded his head and walked away, leaving Erik at the door, standing awkwardly. He half thought it was the right thing to close the door and wait for someone to knock again, but that seemed far too formal for everything else here. Given that his trousers and jacket were a steel grey and looked menacing, no one would dare question him with the door ajar.

Minutes later, Remy returned with a man a few years longer than Erik - more than a few years if the nervous energy said anything - and said, “Erik, this is Alex. He has the time to show you through the castle and the environs just outside it. He also knows you need to be back before dinner as I believe His Majesty would like to dine with you again.”

Erik nodded curtly, and Remy left once again. Alex stared at him, awestruck, but said nothing. “Well, shall we begin?” he asked before Alex shook his ascent and looked as though he came back to himself.

“Right this way, sir.”

Alex walked and Erik followed, content to let the castle reveal something no one else had deigned to share until now.

-

Alex had a decent enough knowledge of the castle and His Majesty, so far as Erik surmised; there were a few stumbled words here or there and stutters about the dates of things - battles and treaties - but Erik wasn’t interested in those so much as he was interested in the man who lead and negotiated those. 

There had been so much to take in that Erik nearly missed the series of large portraits that dominated a prominent corridor: Charles by himself, Charles with another man, and then that man by himself. Alex had said nothing about them, but as Erik looked, he stopped dead in his tracks.

The man, and he had to be Magnus, was almost Erik’s twin, had there been a possibility for it in the world. “Is this Magnus?” Erik asked, because it would be far easier if Alex explained than anything else Erik’s mind might supply.

“Yes, this is Magnus Eisenhardt, consort to His Majesty and General of the Army.” Alex said nothing else, and studied the painting as Erik did. “You know--” Alex started to say before Erik cut him off with a quick nod. There was no reason to say the idea aloud; there was no mistaking Erik and Magnus for the same man, especially as Erik was now wearing Magnus’ clothes. 

“He dresses nothing like His Majesty. How did he rise to such power?” Erik found himself asking.

“His Majesty values battle readiness and valor in battle. Magnus was the best.”

“Then why did he leave?”

“No one knows for sure, sir. If you would, though, I think that’s enough exploring for today. It is approaching dinnertime and you can’t keep His Majesty waiting.”

Erik wanted to protest and ask more questions, but followed Alex back instead. For every answer he had to his mystery, three more questions rose up. But there was time for more exploration later. Perhaps in the large room he had first met Charles in. Or one of the many libraries they had passed today.

-

In the quiet of his rooms, Erik let out a long sigh, though he wasn’t sure why. Alex had stayed at his side to help him change into something less formal for dinner. Erik was about to ask if Alex was to be his valet before a door opened - not the one that led into the hallway, but the one that separated Erik’s suite from Charles’.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Charles said as he carried one tray of food and was then followed by another three servants with more food and wine.

“This seems excessive,” Erik said when he finally looked at the whole table. Another one - one suited for meals - had been placed in his room while he was out with Alex earlier.

“Of course it might, but trust me it isn’t.” Charles said nothing else, as if Erik’s perceptions were so different that everything was strange to hear to Charles’ mind.

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Erik said instead, because even though he had questions for Charles about Magnus, the Prince was still a haughty man who had no perception of reality.

“Now come, Erik. Let us eat.”

Erik did as he was bid and sat at the table opposite Charles’ seat and started to look at the food laid out in front of them. It was a far more elaborate meal than last night’s. “This is too much. I could never eat this much.”

Charles let out a small laugh and said, “You sound like Magnus. He never understood the five-course meal.”

“Well, it’s absurd to see this much food for two people when it could easily feed ten.” Erik’s hackles were raised, even though he had had a pleasant day before this. “It’s wasteful.”

“It’s not if this is just the prelude to something else,” and there was a glint of something mischievous in Charles’ words and mannerisms as he spoke.

Erik tried to ignore that, because he knew now that Charles was probably using him as a substitute for his long-lost consort. “I will not be his replacement.”

Charles’ face stilled then. “You aren’t meant to replace him. But you know, I see from Alex’s day, that you have found that you resemble each other.”

Erik nodded and carefully picked up a small bird of some sort. “I am not him.”

It was Charles’ turn to nod and as soon as the Prince made it known he understood, turned his attention back to his plate.

Erik took the silence for what it was meant to be - a time to eat - and slowly pieced his way through at least one thing on each of the large plates. He felt himself settle into contentment with the food’s effects as well as those of the fine wine. The food was good, even if there was no way the two of them should eat so much. But he kept that thought as quiet as he could, in case Charles was listening in again.

As if to help himself, Erik tried to keep himself as free of thoughts as possible, which was difficult after the limited information he had on Magnus. It was worth it, then, to ask the question that wouldn’t leave his mind.

“Why did Magnus leave?”

Charles looked up, shocked, as if Erik had asked the question that would reveal all the secrets of the known world. “It’s complicated.”

“And it’s not complicated that we both look alike and that I’m not from here. You must have answers.” Erik waited to see what sort of reaction Charles would have to that, and stayed where he was.

It took a few moments for Charles to rise from his chair and walk towards the set of couches. Erik figured, without being told, that Charles wanted to have this discussion in a more comfortable setting. 

That made Erik’s ire rise again. He had no wish to be coddled here, especially since no one had still said anything about his arrival. “I promise this will only take a minute,” Charles said then, as if Erik’s body language had told him everything Erik was thinking.

“Then begin,” Erik said and sat as far away from Charles as he could.

“To the best of Hank and Irene’s understanding, you managed to come through a time portal, hidden whenever you were. It has no set time to reappear, however, nor a location. I’m sorry.”

“That wasn’t what I thought you’d start with.” Erik set a glare for good measure, to show how put out he was by the non-answer.

“I like to defy expectations. But as to your point about Magnus, he left because--” and now Charles trailed off.

“Because why?” Erik asked.

“Because I’m selfish, arrogant and priggish. His words, not mine.”

“He’s not wrong,” Erik said as Charles laughed.

“You’re more alike than I thought,” Charles added, before moving in Erik’s direction. Erik now wanted to push Charles back, because he was in no way concerned for the loves and lives of two men from who knew when. He was not supposed to be obsessed with the lives of others outside of those he wanted to kill, and especially not about their love lives. Those were trivial matters for small-minded men.

Charles’ approach, however, telegraphed that he might have understood that about Erik. “Stay where you are,” Erik whispered, though it sounded as if it came from a ghost, faint and airy where he wanted to be strong and determined.

Charles stilled and said, “You aren’t him, I know, but I miss him.” As if that explained everything, Charles pushed into Erik’s space, pinning him against the armrest of the couch and breathing in deep; it was as if Charles was trying to make out some inherent difference between Erik and Magnus and found none.

Erik had no idea how to respond to that statement, but made no move to leave, trapped as he was by Charles’ body almost on top of his. Charles’ breath hit his neck, now free from that jacket, and Erik found his lungs working harder for air. He managed a deep gasp for air, almost desperate, and no more - for Charles pressed his mouth against Erik's then.

It was awkward, and as Charles brought his face closer to Erik’s, something in the room shifted, spun on its axis. Charles rested one of his hands on Erik’s thigh and all but tried to devour Erik whole; the kiss so all-consuming that Erik didn’t know what to do. He let Charles set whatever pace he was interested in, Charles trying to coax Erik’s lips open after a few hungry kisses. Erik complied, he had no reason not to, and then slowly his mind caught on to what was happening.

This hadn’t happened before - at least as far as he could remember - but that didn’t mean Erik couldn’t appreciate it. Charles continued to kiss him, more slowly, but no less powerful.

And Erik let go, let everything else be washed away by the new feelings that he now only associated with Charles's mouth, warm against his.

-

Without realizing how it had happened, Erik woke to find himself alone, though the last thing he remembered was Charles’ voracious appetite for Erik’s body. Not only had Charles kissed Erik as if he was a fine meal that needed to be savored, but Charles had ghosted his fingers over as much of Erik's body as he could actually reach. Charles’ ministrations might have explained why there had been so much food brought in for dinner, and as soon as Erik thought it, he tried to push the idea away. Because thinking of what Charles had done to him last night stirred something that felt as foreign as Charles’ first kiss had; it was not worth exploring further without risking a very dangerous minefield of his personal boundaries.

He had no intentions of being turned into a replacement for Magnus, no matter how much alike they seemed - and no matter how similarly they probably acted. He had no use for romance, or for wasted time exploring another man’s body. At least he tried to tell himself that as he thought back to how thoroughly Charles had wanted to explore Erik’s body and how much of that Charles had succeeded in; Erik’s lips were still swollen from Charles’ scores of kisses and there were small blooms of purple and pink against his skin. Not only had Charles been busy kissing Erik senseless, but Charles’ hands had massaged, pinched and even grabbed a few times when he wasn’t busy taking in the contours and shape of Erik’s body.

It all left Erik feeling more euphoric than he ever remembered being. Even after a kill. Especially after a kill. There was something to his reactions, he was sure, but he had no other frame of reference to know whether one was normal or abnormal.

As he thought to examine the idea further, Alex strode into the rooms, as if nothing was amiss. “Ready to start the day, sir?” he asked.

Erik wanted to shoo the young man away - wanted to try and examine his lightheaded and heady feelings - but said nothing and let the man start to ready Erik for the day.

“Can you point me towards a library today?” he asked while Alex had moved to ready the hot water and clothes.

“What are you looking for? There are at least four libraries.”

“Information about Magnus’ battles.”

Alex nodded, but said nothing else and went to work make sure Erik was well looked after. When all was said and done, Erik looked much like he had the day before: utilitarian suit that looked strange next to all the finery of Charles and his Privy Council or some of the citizens he had scene on his first walk. But it suited Erik fine - he rather liked the strong presence it gave him to stand out as a single block of color against scores of other outfits in matching shades of the same color.

There was a small breakfast left for him - how it appeared Erik didn’t question - and as soon as he had finished, Alex showed him towards one of the many libraries.

“This is the library that houses most of the military history; you should have no problem finding Magnus in here.” Alex turned quickly and left Erik alone in the cavernous room.

It took only another moment for someone from within the Library’s staff to seek him out. “What are you looking for?” a man with wide white wings asked.

“I’m looking for information on General Magnus: both his military records and his personal information.”

The man walked carefully towards one corner of the library and removed a few heavy tomes from the shelves. He left without another word and so Erik opened the first book and began to read.

-

The library had a surprisingly number of chairs in which to sit and read. Erik had lost all track of time as he read, pouring over the pages and taking in as much of Magnus’ history as he could.

Hours in the library had revealed just enough that Erik thought he knew, though didn’t understand completely, General Magnus Eisenhardt. He was a man with singular purpose - to make sure his country was well protected - and that he had fallen in love with the Prince almost at first sight. It made Erik wonder if that was why Charles had been so keen to initiate something intimate between the two of them after only a few days acquaintance; if Charles was trying to recreate a life with Erik that would mirror the life Charles had had with Magnus. 

Intimacy was still something that Erik hardly understood, but he couldn’t deny that with the reading he had done and what he knew of Charles - and himself - that while he had nowhere to go, it wasn’t going to hurt to explore what Charles had started the night before. He knew men in the camps who wore pink triangles, and knew what they had done, but as he grew up, he found that his lust had never been limited to women; he found one man in a dark alley that had helped to ease some of Erik’s need when all the women were otherwise engaged. Of course he knew that what he had done with that man had been illegal, and could have gotten him put in jail had an officer found them. Now that Charles had kissed him as he had, Erik realized that he didn’t think much about who he had been amorous with. That, he knew, was different from most everyone else.

Here Erik wasn’t going to be able to hunt and kill Schmidt while stuck in some time that wasn’t his own, and since he had no one to kill - Magnus having done most of that - he would take the time to try and understand himself more fully and explore what he had done with Charles again and again. 

He found, once he knew of Magnus and knew of Charles, that the Prince wasn’t nearly as exhausting as he originally thought, difficult as that idea was for him to admit right now. Not that he’d ever tell that to Charles, but if the Prince was going to use Erik as a substitute for Magnus, it _might_ not be horrible to use Charles as a means to explore a life he had denied himself so often.

Since he had never had time to explore his own sexuality - outside of a few fumbling experiences as a touch-starved teen and another two or three after that - it wasn’t as if this time wasn’t opportune. Charles had no problems expressing himself, and Erik found that he liked someone who was equally determined to meet a goal as Erik himself was. Even if this goal potentially included despoiling Erik, it was a goal nonetheless.

The trick, he realized, was being aloof enough to not let Charles know that Erik was on to the Prince’s potential plan but also not being as cold and unfeeling as he had been upon their first meeting. If he had managed to kill scores of Nazis without difficulty, he could do this as well without a problem.

-

Alex had left him to the tomes for the day, going so far as to send in a small plate for lunch while Erik was still reading, but as the sun set, Alex walked into the room and took Erik back to his rooms, even as one of the tomes remained unread.

“Was the day a productive one, sir?” Alex asked as they walked towards the suite.

“It was, thank you. Where am I eating tonight? Or should I ask, with whom?” He knew he was being far more giving with information than he had before, but with his plan in place, it was imperative that he not be as gruff when it came to certain things. 

“His Majesty had a meal planned for your room again tonight, but I know the Privy Council is working later if you’d like them to join.”

Erik shook his head, and said nothing else as they walked into his rooms and let Alex get to work on removing the jacket and setting up the room to be more appropriate for the Prince’s visit.

At the moment that Erik turned around to ask Alex about something, however, Erik discovered that the rooms were empty. He thought to say something to the air, but kept quiet. Instead, he looked around the room, as if trying to take in the ways in which one of the couches might best facilitate his plan and how the room might have best served Genosha’s finest general. Dinner was laid out against one of the small tables - a feast with far too much, again - though it looked as though Charles had tried to suggest that the scope of the meal be pared down so as to not seem _too_ excessive.

There was a small knock on the door to Charles’ room before Erik could think through the rest of that idea, and Charles said, “Am I interrupting?”

Turning towards Charles, Erik said, “No, you’re not. I’m just lost in thought.”

“A good thought, I hope?”

“It might be, but if you don’t come in, I’m sure that the meal will grow cold.”

Charles smiled quickly and came to sit at one of the chairs before Erik followed him. The food was good, as always, but Erik felt as if the meal didn’t matter because Charles was staring at him as intently as he did yesterday.

“Something on your mind, Charles?” he asked just after finishing the last piece of meat on his plate. Charles looked slightly startled by the question, but schooled himself quickly enough.

“Not really. I was just thinking about something and got lost in it.”

“Care to share?” Erik asked, knowing that he was doing more than enough to try and draw Charles out; Charles had done that last night, and now it was Erik's turn.

“Since when did you want to know anything about me?” was Charles’ response.

“I may have spent the day learning about Magnus,” Erik said, though he knew that Charles’ interest would be piqued at that.

“I hope you found what you wanted to know.”

Erik shook his head, but said nothing else. He let the silence spread between them before he hoped that Charles would do something. Instead, the silence grew awkward and stifling. “I still don’t understand how he fell for you,” Erik said because he was tired of waiting for Charles to take that bait.

“I still don’t know it either. One minute he was winning the final match of a tournament, and next he was kissing me. I was still processing the ceremonial gift after the tournament when it happened.”

Erik just hummed because had nothing else to say on that. The books had been less detailed about their meeting than Charles had just been, but for the sake of any official document, Erik suspected it had been condensed and cleaned up. Thinking of where this conversation might go, Erik rose from his seat and moved cautiously to one of the couches. “Will you tell me more?” 

There was no verbal comment from Charles, but Erik heard the chair move back and then saw Charles come to sit next to him.

“I can, if you’d like.” Charles settled into the space next to Erik and went back to talking about Magnus and their relationship as the candles around the room dripped towards their end.

-

Erik was almost loathe to admit this, but he found the night discussing Charles’ and Magnus’ relationship to be useful. Somehow, Charles kept himself together and did nothing to encroach on Erik’s space, but with so many stories of his consort, it was clear that Charles’ mind was occupied elsewhere.

For all that he could, Erik listened attentively and found the conversation even more enlightening than the trip to the library. He tried to show it, and hoped that Charles caught on. But in the end, Charles left with only a lingering press of his hand against Erik’s.

Frustration was all Erik saw when Charles left, but as he settled into his bed, he found his hand trying to replicate the feel of Charles’ hands on his body from the day before. It felt different to explore the planes of his own chest and the way his hand found his cock, craving attention after so long next to Charles’ space. 

He had rarely done this, but as he thought more and more about what Charles had said about Magnus, Erik couldn’t stop himself. He let his fingers ghost over his erection again, and then set to wrapping his fingers around his whole shaft and squeezing.

Lost to the feelings - the stories of Charles and Magnus - Erik brought himself off, slow pulls followed by a series of quick jerks that made him mad with want. In a rush, Erik felt his ejaculate against his hand and his stomach. He tried to catch his breath, but found that he wanted more air than he ever imagined. Sated and euphoric, Erik let his mood wash over the room and fell blissfully into sleep.

-

Warm morning light filtered into the room, and Erik wanted nothing more than to chase away the start of the new day. He still felt boneless and peaceful from the night before, and nothing he could imagine would be as good as that.

He knew there were things he should do - looking for some piece or artifact to send him back, exploring the country more - but he wanted none of it. Instead, he wanted to curl into the warmth of his sheets and never leave.

As if someone knew Erik’s thoughts, there was a knock on the door and someone walked in. Only it wasn’t Alex who would want to get him started on his day, but Charles who had entered. “Did you sleep well?” he asked as he carried in a small tray - probably breakfast.

“I did, and I’d like to continue that,” he mumbled, burrowing into the blankets after he finished.

“I think you’ll want to change your mind. I’ve set aside the day for us.”

Erik wanted to protest the idea, but as he pulled himself upright to look at Charles, his breath caught. The Prince wore nothing but a flimsy robe, held together by a thin strip of satin. It left Charles completely exposed to Erik: pale skin that looked too fragile to touch, a thatch of reddish hair that led to Charles’ own cock.

“What?” he managed to say before he forgot everything else.

“You were almost shouting at me last night while you,” Charles said and tried to gesture to mimic Erik’s activities last night, “so I thought we’d try something together. Your mind wasn’t as closed off as you’d have liked, by the way.”

Erik wanted to be upset at the way that Charles had overheard him, but as if he thought it too loud, Charles said, “I wasn’t trying, Erik. Believe me. But your mind, it’s--”

Erik let the statement trail because Charles was walking towards the bed, though the tray still stayed in one hand. “Is that breakfast?”

“No, it’s not. But I think you’ll like it all the same.” As if to prove the point, Charles opened the cover on the tray and revealed a number of small vials of oil. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

Erik found himself nodding he assent and watching as Charles placed the tray on the night table and then undid the knot holding his robe together. He wasn’t sure how he had gone so completely from ignoring the idea of sex to where he was at the moment, but Erik didn’t question it, as the plan had a valid trajectory and this was one part of it. 

In fact he welcomed it. Just as he welcomed Charles into his bed, the robe fallen on the floor in a crumpled heap.

“What did you have in mind?” Erik asked, though his voice was whisper soft as if he had never spoken before.

“I thought I’d start here,” Charles said as one hand found its way to Erik’s morning erection. There was a careful pull against Erik’s flesh and Erik found himself letting out a soft moan in response. “Good, but what if I did this,” Charles continued, though instead of his hand pulling against Erik’s erection again, Charles moved down and placed a kiss against the tip of Erik’s length.

Erik had no way to respond, as the feeling of another man’s lips against himself was something that sparked a deeper pleasure in himself than he knew - more pleasure than he found in taking himself in his own hand had been.

Instead of stopping at the simple kiss, Erik felt as Charles breathed across his heated flesh, blowing air against the skin as if it make every feeling more intense. Soon, the cool air was replaced with the heat of Charles’ lips around Erik’s cock and a slow lick of Charles’ tongue.

Charles was relentless, taking more and more of Erik as if Erik’s erection was the only thing in the world that mattered to Charles. For all that Erik wanted to say, his voice betrayed him; he only heard moans, labored breaths and a deep cry of pleasure when Charles brought Erik over the edge, Charles swallowing as much as he could of Erik’s seed.

As Erik tried to school his breathing, Charles shifted back towards Erik’s face. There was a deep meaningful look in Charles’ eyes now, as if the man knew he had done something so unknown to Erik. “You were wonderful. But I think it’s time to show you something else.”

-

Hours later, Erik had only managed to leave his bed for a brief trip to the chamber pot, but he found that he didn’t mind staying next to Charles when they had shared so much together.

Charles, infinitely patient, had worked with Erik as he learned about how to use his hands to pleasure someone else. Never before had Erik done more and rub himself against his chosen partner, and this felt - infinitely better. It had felt as if his hands were too shaky to properly pull and slide against Charles’ erection, but at every turn, Charles said, “Be patient” or “You’re fine; it’s perfect.”

Charles’ face when he came, Erik found, was even more beautiful than he had imagined. Charles’ mouth formed a nearly perfect ‘O’ as he came, and the flush on his face spread nearly the entire length of his body. He found that now he thought Charles pretty - bright red lips that swallowed him whole and deep blue eyes that bore into Erik’s soul - but they were not the ideals he had thought he’d find attractive before. “You’re--” he started to say, but found he couldn’t finish the sentence.

Not for lack of trying, as now Charles had decided to capture Erik’s mouth in a kiss that spoke of something Erik only had heard of from Charles’ lips: a passion and a deep love.

Erik gave in to the feeling, knowing now that Charles might have found something in Erik that he could love independent of Magnus. It was heady to know that that had come from him, even if his original plan hadn’t been this quick. 

_Stop thinking or I’ll,_ Charles said mentally and Erik jolted away, breaking the kiss as he did. No matter what Charles had overheard the night before, there had been nothing like the mental conversation from the first day.

“You promised,” was all Erik got out before Charles pressed back into his space. 

“It’s hard to keep that promise when my mouth was otherwise occupied. I figured you’d be amenable to that.”

Erik thought to say no, but nodded instead because the whole morning - and good part of the afternoon - had been more than pleasant. “It’s fine, but I need you to promise not to look into anything.”

“I never have; it’s been your broadcasted thoughts and your moods. Speaking to your mind doesn’t involve anything else but transmitting information.”

At that Erik nodded again and pulled Charles back into his space, opening his mouth to take Charles’. For the first time, Erik initiated the kiss and found that he liked the feeling of now devouring Charles whole.

-

As much as Erik wanted to continue to kiss Charles senseless, he needed and required food and a brief respite from anything they had done so far.

It pained Erik to realize how much they had done so far: Charles’ mouth on his cock, Erik’s hand on Charles’ cock, more kisses than he could count. He thought he might be sore from everything, but he found himself pleasantly buzzing instead.

“It’s the first time, you know,” Charles said as he took a long sip of water from one of the goblets that had been left outside Erik’s door.

“First time?” Erik asked, his hand idly tracing patterns into Charles’ flank.

“The feeling - it’s from the first time you’ve been like this. But there’s still something you’ve yet to do.”

Erik wasn’t sure how to respond to Charles’ words. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s not as though I’m a woman, but you’ve yet to--” Charles trailed off now, and it seemed so strange for Charles to stop now after they had been so intimate before. 

“Shouldn’t there be something else before that?” Erik asked, because he was sure that there must be. He knew enough of anatomy to know that there was a difference in what he and Charles were doing and what his parents had done.

“Well, I suppose so, but I don’t think we can prolong this exercise. I have meetings that cannot be put off another day.”

Erik wanted to protest, but thought better of it. _I’ll show you what to do and it’ll be fine._ Charles added, as if that would make Erik feel better about keeping Charles so long today.

 _Tut tut, Erik. This was my decision, but my life cannot be solely yours_.

Erik nodded slowly, and then pulled Charles’ goblet away from him and put it on the night table. “What’s first?”

“Well,” Charles started before he started to kiss Erik instead. Erik opened himself up to Charles’ ministrations, content to let Charles lead the way. There were hands - his and Charles’ - reaching wherever they could and kisses broken between bites of skin.

It felt like this was the beginning of something different, though. Unlike the first time Charles kissed him, they were leading to a different place; no longer was this about the simple pleasure of kisses shared, it was now about the ultimate act between lovers, between partners, between equals.

Charles pulled back slowly and reached for one small vial on the tray. He didn’t return to cover Erik’s body, and at that Erik lifted a curious eyebrow.

“Just trust me,” Charles said breathily as he poured some of the oil onto his fingers and planted his feet flat against the mattress, wider than was surely normal. Erik watched, then, as Charles’ fingers found his hole and started to massage the outer rim.

Erik wanted to say something, but the idea was lost in his throat. “It’s this or we’ll both be in pain later. So sit back, relax and enjoy the show.” Charles’ voice sounded cheeky and slightly labored, but he made no sign that this wasn’t what he wanted to do.

His fingers pushed into his body, finally, and then Erik couldn’t take his eyes away from the sight of Charles coming undone. He moaned, as he rocked his hips into each thrust of his fingers and pushed as deep as he could each time. 

Erik felt himself flush at the show Charles was putting on, and before he could think of anything else, found himself sliding his cupped hand around his hardening erection. He pulled against himself a few times before Charles said, “Don’t get too worked up or we won’t last very long,” as if that explained everything.

Erik slowed down his work, choosing instead of watch as Charles had almost his whole hand inside himself. “You’re gorgeous,” was all Erik said as he watched.

 _As are you_ , Charles said. _Now, get another vial and coat yourself with it. I’m ready, if you are._

Erik nodded and reached for one, spilling a generous portion onto his erection and waiting for Charles’ cue.

“Come here,” Charles said through one last moan as he pulled his fingers out of himself. Erik complied and settled on top of Charles’ chest; Charles’ hips and knees moved to allow Erik a better position. “Start slowly,” was the last thing Charles said before he pushed up to give Erik as kiss that spoke of something far beyond what they had shared today and those few days before. 

It spoke of something between him and Magnus, but also something that had befallen Erik and Charles in no time at all. Erik tried not to think too much about Magnus’ role, and lined himself up at Charles's hole and began to slide in.

Charles let out a soft moan before saying, “Keep going.” Erik did as he thought Charles meant and pushed in slowly, feeling the way that Charles’ body wrapped around himself, muscles clenching around Erik’s cock in pulses that made Erik want to moan in wanton pleasure.

Once he was settled in, Charles said, “Now, pull back out - slowly - and then back in.” Erik understood enough at this point from Charles’ earlier work and pulled his hips away from Charles, letting his cock slip away from Charles’ body. As soon as he felt he was almost all the way out of Charles, he pushed back in, and moaned as the feeling of Charles’ around him took over, Charles’ muscles working harder and harder to take Erik’s girth.

They pushed and pulled away and back towards each other, the pace faster as Erik grew more confident in what he was doing. Charles’ voice only spurred him on, moans and curses growing more and more frequent as they worked together. 

Erik felt himself growing less rhythmic, less coordinated as it went, and Charles did nothing but rock back and forth to meet Erik’s erratic movements, push for pull. Charles’ hand started to wrap around himself as Erik made another thrust and just as he bottomed out, Erik felt himself come, his mind going blank at the pleasure he found.

Charles’ own release came shortly after, Erik’s body still working to fill Charles as best he could. “You were wonderful,” Charles said through deep breaths and mentally added, _You’ll want to pull out once you’re soft, but don’t you dare think of leaving this bed_.

Erik stayed as he was, kissing his way across Charles’ flush skin before he pulled out and saw some of his spunk fall onto the sheets. He reached for something to clean up Charles’ own come and while he found a towel on the tray, everything shifted again and--

-

Water lapped all around him, and Erik couldn’t figure out what in the world had happened to separate him from Charles so soon after they had - well they had had sex.

He was dressed in a wetsuit, and when he took in the rest of his surroundings, he found the _Caspartina_ within his sights. So he was where Schmidt was now.

That was something he could work with. He swam towards the boat and slowly crept aboard and stalked down the deck, trying to find signs of life. When he turned the corner, he saw Schmidt standing between a woman who slowly turned from flesh to diamond, and a man with long hair and palms up, both of whom looked like they were itching for a fight.

The woman dug into his memories - bringing old memories to light again: Schmidt’s offer of chocolate on the first day; pain at Schmidt’s hand when Erik failed to complete a task; his mother’s death; finding Schmidt no where in the camps at their liberation - as Schmidt talked of trivial things before the man made whirlwinds and threw Erik overboard.

The water again engulfed him, but this time he was far below the surface. He felt like giving up, the pain of the memories too great to overcome in order to kill Schmidt. He tried to find metal and attack the boat, just to stop Schmidt, but the anchor was not as useful as he had hoped. It took threw the water, but lacked purpose and directionality that he should have had under normal circumstances

When he felt as though he would just open his mouth and drown, a strong set of arms wrapped around him and said into his mind, _You need to let go._

Erik hadn’t imagined anyone else could speak to his mind like Charles had, and he fought against the man’s grip all the same. He was back in his time and that meant that Charles, His Majesty Prince of Genosha, was nowhere to be see.

 _You’re not alone_ , the man tried again and Erik let himself go limp, exhausted and confused as he was.

The man pulled them both to the surface and as Erik turned around to look at the man, he stared at a man who might have been the Prince’s twin, down to the same bright blue eyes and perfect red lips. He tried not to think about it, as the man was speaking to him.

Erik let the words wash over him and allowed the man to bring him to a ship to dry off. Whoever this man was, Erik would follow him, just to understand how he could meet another man like Prince Charles of Genosha.

**Author's Note:**

> Additional Tags not included: Doppelgangers.
> 
> Much thanks to my beta, my sounding board, and another friend for looking at pacing.
> 
> If this feels like a tumblr post about Erik's sexuality that went around a few weeks ago, well, it was already going that way and it just stayed that way.
> 
> Title taken from "Your Ex-Lover is Dead" by Stars.


End file.
